


Every Purpose Under Heaven

by sinnerforhire



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Book: The Secret Garden, First Time, Gardens & Gardening, Ghosts, Hospitals, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinnerforhire/pseuds/sinnerforhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared's life is turned upside down when his father, a landscaper, is diagnosed with a terminal illness. Jared uses the skills he developed at his father's side to get a job as a live-in gardener at the Laurel Manor Inn, a Victorian mansion bed and breakfast. The old manor holds a number of secrets, including a locked, abandoned garden and a mysterious young man named Jensen who hasn't left the manor in seventeen years. But as Jared begins to unravel the manor's mysteries, he discovers a tragedy in Jensen's past that changes everything, and he learns that sometimes letting go is the only way to move forward. Loosely based on Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

Jared knew stopping at the McDonald’s closest to campus was a mistake as soon as he walked in the door and saw a group of people he knew standing in line. He took a deep breath, steeled himself for the intrusive questions and empty platitudes, and got into line.

“Jared!” Genevieve, his friend from psych class, launched herself into his arms. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Oh, you know. Around.” Jared weakly hugged her back. 

“Oh, right, your dad. How is he?” Genevieve pulled back, a concerned look on her face.

Jared shrugged. “All right, for now.” 

"Well, that's good, right?" she chirped. Jared nodded and fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“You should come by our place next Saturday night,” said Sophia, Gen’s roommate. “We’re having an end-of-finals party. Everyone’ll be there.”

“Can’t,” said Jared, and for once he wasn’t lying. “I’m starting a new job next week. Won’t have time.”

Sophia frowned. “A job? I thought you had to take care of your dad.”

“Not really,” replied Jared. “My mom does most of it. I just take care of the house and keep my little sister out of trouble. They’ll get by without me for a while.”

“Where are you working?” asked Gen.

“Laurel Manor Inn,” said Jared. “I’m the new live-in gardener.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Gen replied with a huge smile.

Jared shrugged again. “It’s a job.”

The person in the front of the line took her tray and left, so Gen and Sophia and their friends moved up to the counter. “Sit with us,” said Sophia.

“Can’t. I’m taking this stuff home to my sister,” said Jared, relieved that the conversation would soon be over. Truth was, he could stay if he wanted to, but he didn’t exactly relish the thought of having to pretend to be interested in his old friends’ insipid conversations. It was kind of funny, Jared thought, the way everyday life seemed so boring and unimportant when most of your time revolved around literal matters of life or death. And he certainly wasn’t in the mood to hear about everything he was missing at school. He’d had to drop out at the beginning of the semester because his parents couldn’t afford the tuition due to all of the medical bills. Terminal illnesses were expensive as hell.

The group of students ordered food and stepped aside to wait for it. Jared moved up to the register and placed his own order to go. A minute later, the teenaged cashier handed him a big white bag and a large soda. Jared nodded at his friends and listened to their goodbyes as he walked to the door.

Jared climbed in his truck and set the bag on the passenger seat. The elderly truck wheezed to life and bucked when Jared shifted into gear. Jared didn’t understand why he couldn’t just borrow his dad’s truck. It wasn’t like his dad was using it. Yeah, it was the business truck with the logo on the side, but Jared didn’t see why that mattered. 

The truck lurched to a halt in the driveway. Jared could see his younger sister’s face in the living room window. He held a hand up in acknowledgment and she met him at the door, yanking the bag out of his hand.

“Hey! My food’s in there too,” protested Jared. 

Megan pulled out a carton of chicken nuggets and thrust the bag back at him. “I’m starving. You said you’d be here twenty minutes ago.”

  “There was a long line,” Jared explained, although it was only half the truth. “Did Mom call?" 

“Yeah, she’s on her way home.”

“Shit,” Jared muttered. They were supposed to eat the leftover tuna casserole that was in the fridge. If she caught them with their takeout, there’d be hell to pay. “Take that up to your room. She could be here any minute.”

Megan nodded and darted up the stairs. Jared glanced out the window, but he didn’t see his mother’s car. But visiting hours at the hospital had ended half an hour ago, so she would likely be home in a matter of minutes. Jared took the steps two at a time and ducked into his room. He wolfed down his burger and fries and shoved the trash under his bed. Then he went back down to the kitchen and pulled out two plates and some silverware and set them next to the sink. He took the casserole out of the fridge and dumped the remainder down the disposal, then filled the casserole dish with water and detergent and started to clean both the empty dish and the unused plates. At least this way they wouldn’t get in trouble, even if it was a lot of extra work Jared didn’t really feel like doing.

A minute later he heard the door open. He was just setting the last clean plate in the dish rack to dry. “Hey, Mom,” he said as she threw the mail on the counter.

“Oh good, you ate,” she said, glancing at the dish rack. Jared turned around and his mother grasped his shoulders and drew him in to kiss his forehead. 

“How’s Dad?” asked Jared, even though he didn’t really want to know the answer.  
   
“Hanging in there,” she replied. “He’s still kind of groggy from the pain meds, but the doctor said that’s normal.” Jared nodded. “He wants to see you this weekend.”

Jared sucked a breath in between his teeth. “About that,” he started, looking down at the floor. “I kind of have stuff to do this weekend.”

"What kind of stuff?” his mother asked sharply.

“I, uh…I got a job,” he mumbled, still not meeting her eyes. “At Laurel Manor Inn. I move in there on Saturday and start on Sunday.”

“Jared! What were you thinking?” she snapped. “You’re just going to have to tell them you changed your mind. Your responsibility is to this family. There’s more than enough work to do around here to keep you busy this summer, even if you’re not working at the business.”

“But I need the money if I’m going to go back to school in the fall,” argued Jared. “They’re paying me enough to cover fall semester, and I can take out a loan for spring. Megan can do the chores as well as I can. It's not like she has anything better to do either.”

“That’s not the point,” his mother countered. “This family needs you. You’ve been trying to pull away from us ever since your dad got sick. I know it’s not easy—“

“You have no idea,” Jared said.

“But if the worst happens, you’re going to regret all the time that you didn’t spend with us. With _him_ ,” his mother finished.

Jared sighed. He knew she was right, but he didn’t want her to be right. He hated everything about the situation. He hated the way the hospital smelled and sounded, he hated the way the nurses talked to him and his sister like they were little kids, he hated his mom’s forced cheer, and he hated the sallow, sunken skeleton his father had become. The whole thing sucked, and Jared didn’t want any part of it. As far as he was concerned, his father had stopped being his dad as soon as he got sick. He didn’t act or talk or do anything the same way he did before he was sick, so it was alarmingly easy for Jared to consider his sick father to be a completely different person from his healthy father. 

Jared crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m nineteen years old. I have a right to decide how I want to spend my summer. And I’m going to spend it at Laurel Manor, working. If you ever want me to be able to take the business back from Uncle Jack, I have to finish school. And if I don’t work this summer, that’ll never happen.”

Jared’s mother shook her head. “Clearly nothing I say is going to change your mind. But I want you to think about what I said. Twenty years down the road, what are you going to remember—your job, or that you should have spent more time with your father?”

Jared tried to shrug off the guilt trip, but it stayed with him far longer than he would've liked to admit. It was nearing two o’clock before he finally managed to fall asleep.

Jared shouldered his bag, pulled his suitcase from the passenger side footwell, and locked the door of his truck. The Laurel Manor Inn, a Victorian mansion that had been converted to a luxury bed and breakfast, stretched out before him. It was a beautiful piece of architecture, with a huge wraparound porch, numerous roof peaks, dozens of windows, and a sort of tower at one corner. Hanging baskets of colorful annuals dotted the porch, overlooking the white wicker furniture. One corner of the house boasted a large rhododendron bush, some smaller azaleas, a couple of burning bushes, and a few perennials at the outer border. Shade trees lined the walkway up to the front door, and the front lawn was immaculately trimmed. Jared felt extremely out of place as he climbed the front steps and entered the house.

“Hello, Jared!” The inn’s manager, Samantha, greeted him enthusiastically. “I’ll show you to your room."

He followed her down a long corridor, up a spiral staircase, and around a corner. She opened a door and gestured for Jared to precede her. Jared stepped into a common room. “These are the staff quarters,” she explained. She led him across the room and through another doorway, into a small hallway with three doors on either side. She unlocked the last door on the right and handed Jared the key. “This is your room.”

The room was small, but it boasted an oak dresser and nightstand, a wrought-iron single bed, and a folding door to the closet. “The bathroom is across the hall, the middle door,” she told him. He set his bags down and pocketed the key. “You can unpack later, right now I’d like you to meet the other staff members.”

Jared nodded and locked the door behind them. Samantha walked out to the common room, which featured a large oak entertainment center, several leather armchairs and a sectional sofa, a dining table with six chairs, and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Two younger guys were sitting at the dining table playing cards, and two older men were sitting in the armchairs, reading. 

“Guys, this is Jared, our new gardener,” Samantha announced. She pointed to the two men at the table. “That’s Chris and Steve, our sous chef and head chef.” She gestured to the stockier man in the armchair. “That’s Jim, the head groundskeeper, and next to him is Jeff, the assistant manager.” Jim nodded at Jared and Jeff raised a hand in greeting. “Well, I’ll leave you to get acquainted,” said Samantha, and she left through the main door. 

The longer-haired chef—Chris?—glanced up at Jared and narrowed his eyes. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” Jared answered.

Chris snorted. “Shit, I guess we’ll have to hide the beer.”

Jared shrugged. “I won’t steal it. I don’t drink.”

“You’re nineteen. You’re supposed to do dumb shit like that,” said the other guy—Scott? No, Steve.

“I’m not like other nineteen-year-olds,” admitted Jared. 

“You play poker?” asked Chris.

Jared shook his head. “Not really.”

Steve glared at him. “Well, what _do_ you do?” 

Jared rubbed the back of his neck. It was starting to feel like he’d failed some kind of test. “I like to read,” he said. “And watch movies, I guess. Sometimes I play computer games.”

“Well, aren’t you the party animal,” replied Chris. “You in college?”

“Not right now,” said Jared, inwardly sighing. 

“You flunk out?”

“No, I didn’t,” Jared snapped, his temper finally getting the better of him. “I had to drop out. Family shit. None of your business, really.”

Chris had the grace to look ashamed. “Sorry. That was outta line.” He motioned to the seat next to him. “Wanna play five-card draw? We’re not betting.”

Jared slid into the proffered seat. “Yeah, why not?”

A few minutes later, the quiet was broken by the tootling of a cell phone. One of the older guys, the one who wasn’t Jared’s boss, got up and left the room. Steve looked down at his watch. “Never fails,” he said. “Saturday afternoon, time for the haunting.”

Jared stared at him. “What do you mean? The mansion’s haunted?”

Chris and Steve exchanged a look. “In a manner of speaking,” said Chris.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means the weird guy who came with the place is fucking with the tourists again,” answered Chris, which made even less sense than the haunting thing.

Jared frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Nobody gets it,” said Steve. “The owner’s son, he didn’t leave when his parents did. Nobody knows why. We call him a ghost because he doesn’t talk to anybody and half the time he runs away if you see him. The other half, he’s throwing fits ‘cause guests do shit he doesn’t like.”

“Like what?”

“Like touch his precious piano,” said Chris, rolling his eyes. “He goes ballistic when anybody else tries to play it. He starts screaming and crying like a little kid. Takes ages to get him to stop. Jeff’s the only one who can deal with him. Kid won’t listen to anybody else.”

“That’s weird,” said Jared. “What’s his name?”

“Jensen,” said Chris. “Don’t worry about it. He almost never comes out of his room except to play that damn piano anyway.”

Jared just nodded and looked down at his cards. The whole thing sounded bizarre. Really, really bizarre. He hoped he never ran into this Jensen guy. Luckily, Jared would be spending most of his time outside, so he probably wouldn’t have to worry about it. At least, he hoped not. 

They played a few more hands of cards before Chris and Steve had to go start on the evening meal. The dining area was actually a full-service restaurant with its own separate entrance that was open to the public. Meals were included as part of their staff perks. They just had to eat upstairs in the staff quarters. Jared was looking forward to decent cooking again. Ever since his dad got sick, all they’d eaten was takeout and the terrible casseroles people kept bringing over. 

Jim returned his book to the bookshelf and gestured for Jared to join him in the seating area. “Don’t listen to those guys, they’re full of shit,” said Jim. “Jensen’s harmless. He’s just…got problems.”

Jared scoffed. “Doesn’t everyone?”

Jim chuckled mirthlessly. “Guess you’re right about that.” He leaned forward. “You ask me, what that kid could really use is a friend.”

“And you’re nominating me."

“Look, Jared, I don’t know you hardly at all, but I’ve seen my share of grumpy bastards, and you just don’t seem the type. I think there’s a nice guy under all that attitude.”

Jared scowled at him. “You’re right, you don’t know me.” 

“I’m just saying, give the kid a chance. I think it’d do you both good."

Jared sat back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Yeah, whatever.”

Jim sighed and got up from his chair. He passed by Jared and went into his bedroom.

Jared grabbed the TV remote and flipped through channels until he found a decent movie. But try as he did to distract himself, his thoughts kept going back to Jensen.

Jared jerked awake to the sound of crashing piano chords. It sounded like it was right inside his damn room. He looked around, confused, and his eyes landed on the vent in the ceiling. Whatever room the piano was in must have a vent that connected to his. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes and threw back the bedcovers. At that moment, all he cared about was getting back to sleep. He had to get up at five in the morning to start his job.

He stomped down the spiral staircase and hunted down the piano. It was in a sitting room on the outer edge of the house. It was dark in there, but the five windows let in enough moonlight to allow Jared to see the boy he assumed was Jensen at the piano. He looked to be about Jared’s age, which made him wonder a little why they all referred to him as a kid, and from what Jared could make out, he was kind of ridiculously attractive, with deep-set eyes and plump lips that seemed made for kissing—or other, more salacious activities. His fingers danced nimbly over the ivory keys, and he was so intent on his music that he didn’t notice Jared standing in the doorway staring until Jared pounded on the doorframe. “Hey!”

Jensen jumped, his fingers slipping off the keys as he did so, and the music trailed off, echoing slightly in the large, sparsely furnished room. In the ensuing silence, Jared could hear Jensen’s harsh, panting breaths. He looked terrified, and Jared could finally see why everyone called him a kid, because he looked about ten years old with his wide, frightened eyes and trembling lips. 

“People are trying to sleep,” Jared complained, and his voice echoed off the walls, giving it an eerie, ethereal quality. “So knock it off, okay?”

Jensen sat stock-still, looking for all the world like an animal caught in a hunter's sight, stunned into paralysis. His lips moved, but no sound came out on the first couple of tries. Finally, he managed a weak, breathless “sorry.”

“Jesus, calm down,” said Jared. “I didn’t—I’m sorry if I scared you.” Jared tried to sound angry, but seeing how badly he’d scared Jensen was affecting him more than he wanted to admit. His voice softened involuntarily. “Look, I—just—fuck, I’m sorry, okay? I’m going back to my room now.” He turned to leave.

"No, wait,” came the whispered response. Jared stopped and turned back. Jensen had stood up from the piano bench and taken a small step toward the door. “What’s your name?”

“Jared,” he answered, more quietly this time.

Jensen crossed his arms over his chest like he was hugging himself. He was looking down at the floor, but slowly his chin edged upwards until he was looking Jared in the eyes. “I’m sorry I disturbed you, Jared,” he said in a rush, like he didn’t trust himself to get all the words out. “Are you mad?”

It was Jared’s turn to look away. “I was,” he said truthfully, “but I’m not now. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m sorry.”

“No, you were right, I shouldn’t have been playing so late,” Jensen admitted, staring at Jared’s bare feet. “I wanted to earlier, but…I couldn’t.”

Jared nodded as he connected Jensen’s explanation to Jeff’s phone call from earlier. “I know.”

Jensen frowned. “How did you know?”

“I, uh…I found out from Jeff,” Jared replied.

Jensen’s face fell. “He told you? About me?”

“No, he didn’t, the other guys did.”

Jensen clutched himself tighter. “I don’t like them. They’re mean.” He looked at Jared through his long eyelashes. “You’re not like them. You’re different.”

Jared thought about what Jim had said to him earlier. He smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Jensen returned the smile with a wobbly one of his own. “I like you,” he whispered.

“I, uh…I like you too,” said Jared, and he was surprised to realize he was mostly telling the truth. “But I’m going back to bed now. I have to get up early.”

“Okay,” said Jensen. “I’ll go back too. I won’t play anymore.”

Jared nodded and motioned for Jensen to go out ahead of him. Jensen crept past Jared, still hugging himself, and padded down the corridor toward the front door. Jared didn’t see what room he went into, because Jensen disappeared into the darkness of an unlit hallway.


	2. Part Two

The next morning, Jared rose just as the sun was starting to peek over the treetops. He changed into his overalls and boots and drowsily trudged downstairs to the kitchen to grab breakfast, which at this hour was only cereal and fruit. He’d get to grab brunch once his morning work was finished. One of the things that had attracted Jared to the job was that he wouldn’t have to work during the hottest part of the day. They worked from six to ten a.m. and then started up again at four p.m. Most of the jobs he’d worked with his dad’s landscaping business weren’t nearly as cushy. 

The first thing on Jared’s agenda for the day was pruning the ivy that was growing over the garden’s back wall. He stopped at the toolshed to grab pruning shears and a bucket for the clippings and went off to work. 

Jared didn’t know why the ivy was in such bad shape. Near the top of the wall, he found far too many dead leaves and boughs for a plant that didn’t have any diseases or insect infestations. As he clipped the dead boughs, he realized that he had no idea what was on the other side of the wall. He didn’t even know if it was part of the manor grounds. 

Jared worked at a steady pace, clipping dead leaves and boughs and tossing them in the bucket so he could add them to the compost pile later. As he knelt down to deal with some dead leaves near the ground, a glint of light at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He pushed the ivy branch aside to discover a small brass knob, rubbed shiny from frequent contact, half-hidden away under the thick leaves and branches. Underneath the knob was a slightly rusted keyhole. Jared’s heart started to beat faster as he reached for the knob. Could it be a secret garden, like in the book his father had read to him when he was a child?

The knob refused to budge, even under the brute strength of Jared’s massive hands and forearms. He glanced around to make sure he was well and truly alone, then grasped the knob in one hand and tried to ram the door open with his shoulder. Still it would not give way. 

Jared arranged the ivy to cover the knob once again, but as he continued pruning the ivy, his mind wandered off in search of an explanation for the locked door. Maybe he could access it by climbing over the wall? He knew there was a ladder in the toolshed for trimming trees; maybe he could use it to look over the wall and see what was on the other side. He set his pruning shears aside and trotted down the stone walkway to the toolshed. 

After opening the padlock, Jared retrieved the ladder from the far corner of the toolshed. It must not have been used in a while—it was covered in cobwebs. Jared grabbed a rag and cleaned off the ladder before he carried it back to the wall. 

Jared unfolded the ladder and set it slightly to the left of the hidden door. He stuck his pruning shears in the pocket of his overalls so he could prune the boughs that hung over the top of the wall. He tested the ladder’s stability, and when he was satisfied, he climbed up to the top of the ladder.

Looking down into the long-abandoned garden, he first saw a tangle of dead climbing roses that had nearly overgrown the weathered arbor. The arbor’s white paint was chipped and peeling, exposing the wood beneath. Two long-dead weeping cherry trees sat in the far corners, and the bed of flowers surrounding the mud-covered fountain was overrun with weeds. The grass underneath the wooden swing was nearly high enough to brush the underside of the seat and was studded with clover and dandelions. The garden had obviously been locked up and forgotten about for many years, but with a little time and attention, Jared had no doubt it could return to its former glory. 

Jared clipped some dead leaves and sprigs from the ivy and tossed them down to the ground. There were a lot of brown and withered leaves at the top of the wall, where the ivy curled and started growing down toward the hidden garden. That made sense, if the ivy on the other side wasn’t being watered or pruned regularly. The ivy as a whole would be much healthier if its counterparts on the far side of the wall were cared for. He wondered if he should bring that up to Jim. 

He climbed down the ladder and folded it up, still preoccupied with the hidden garden. Maybe there was a key to the door somewhere in the toolshed? As he unfastened the padlock, he glanced around the garden to see if he could spot Jim, but he seemed to be completely alone. That would give him time to search for the key. He returned the ladder to its resting place in the corner and started pawing through the plastic supply bins that sat on the wire shelves. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he turned his attention to the desk.

He was in luck! One drawer in the desk seemed to have a false bottom, and when he pulled it up, he found an ornate silver key that looked like it was the size of the keyhole in the door. He set the key on top of the desk and hurried to the door, once again searching for any sign of his boss, but Jim was still nowhere to be found. Jared pocketed the key, trying to control his racing heart and quickened breaths, and locked the shed back up. He walked back out to the wall and tried the key in the lock. This time, the door swung open with a loud creak. Jared panicked at the noise and ducked behind the door, pulling it closed behind him with another obnoxious creaking noise. He dared to open the door an inch and peered out around the edge, but he still saw no one. Quit being so paranoid, he told himself, and lightly pushed the door shut. 

He first attacked the ivy, pruning the numerous dead leaves and boughs on this side of the wall, and piled the clippings together near the door. He’d left the bucket on the other side of the wall, so he screwed up his courage and went to retrieve it. The creaking of the door seemed deafening in the early morning silence. He ran over the bucket, scooped it up, and disappeared behind the door once more. Tomorrow he’d have to oil those hinges, if he could figure out where to get the oil. He knew there had to be some around the mansion somewhere, but he didn’t know if he could find it himself, and he was afraid he’d come off as suspicious if he asked Jeff for it. 

Jared piled the clippings in the bucket and returned to pruning. The sun was high overhead at this point, beating down on the back of his neck. His hair was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead in clumps. He rubbed the back of one wrist over his forehead, wiping away the sweat and clingy tendrils of hair. He looked at his watch and was stunned to realize that it was nine o’clock and his morning’s work was almost done. He had to get out of the garden before Jim came around to get him. He eased the creaky door shut and locked it with the antique key. He shoved the key deep into his pocket and had to hope that the outline of it didn’t show underneath the denim. 

He carried the bucket of ivy clippings to the compost drum and dumped it out. The only other thing he’d have time for during this shift was a quick check for weeds in the perennial garden. 

The mansion’s back lawn was divided into quarters and outlined with a box hedge. Each quarter held a different kind of garden. The lower left corner was the fountain garden, which featured a central pool with a spray fountain and four small water gardens surrounding it at right angles. The upper left corner was a raised bed featuring colorful perennials. The lower right corner was the seasonal garden, which featured annuals that were changed during each growing season. It started with tulips and daffodils for late spring, then changed to marigolds, zinnias, and begonias for summer, and finally chrysanthemums, asters and daylilies for fall. The upper right corner was the rose garden that the mansion’s original owners had started. The roses wouldn’t bloom for another six weeks or so. Each garden was enclosed with a stone walkway, and the lower gardens were bordered by the brick wall that hid the secret garden.

Jared scanned the perennial garden for weeds and found a few near the far corner. He knelt down on the wooden frame and used his fingers to dig for the weed’s roots. He could have used a hand trowel, but his dad had taught him to do it with his fingers.

_“A good gardener can find roots with his eyes closed.” His dad tied a bandanna around Jared’s face which covered his eyes, and took Jared’s small hand in his own. He thrust their fingers into the soil and touched them to the roots, which were thin and curly and cold and kind of felt like worms._

_“Feel that? Those are the roots. When you pull a weed, you gotta get all those roots, or you’ll never get rid of it. It’ll just keep on growing back.” He closed Jared’s fingers around the thickest clump of roots and helped him loosen it from the soil. Jared yanked the weed out and threw it to the side._

_“Now, see if you got it all.” Jared reached into the hole and felt around for more roots, but there was only dirt._

_“I got it,” Jared told him proudly._

_His dad pulled the bandanna off. “Yes, you did,” he agreed, also sounding proud. “Now, finish the rest of this bed. I’m gonna grab the tiller from the truck.”_

Jared plunged his fingers into the soil and located the clump of roots that sustained the weed. He tugged on it to loosen it and lifted it out of the bed. He did the same with the other three weeds he could see. He gathered them up and tossed them in the compost bin. It was nearing the end of his morning shift. He raked a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. It was definitely time for a shower.

Jared kicked off his boots and carried them up to his room, not wanting to track dirt around the mansion if he could help it. Once he was alone in his room with the door closed, he pulled the key out of his pocket and placed in his top dresser drawer. He could only hope that Jim didn’t routinely go looking for the key in his desk. Jared didn’t know what would happen if he were to get caught with the key, but he figured it couldn’t be good.

After Jared showered and grabbed some French toast and sausage from the brunch table downstairs, he felt a whole lot closer to human. As he was walking back to his room after dropping off his breakfast dishes, he heard the familiar strains of the piano. He grinned as he followed the music down the hallway and into the drawing room.

In the bright midday sunlight, Jensen looked even more gorgeous than Jared remembered. His cheeks and nose were dusted liberally with freckles and his eyes were a bright, vibrant green, the color of brand-new shoots just starting to poke out of the ground. He continued to play, his fingers jumping off the keys like popcorn kernels as he finished the fast-tempo piece. Jared clapped as the last chord echoed from the walls and Jensen jumped, nearly falling off the bench as he spun around to face Jared.

“It’s not late,” Jensen said, apropos of nothing. “I wasn’t bothering you.” But he didn’t sound confident of that.

“You weren’t,” Jared assured him. “I came to listen to you.”

“Oh.” Jensen’s cheeks colored slightly. “Okay."

Jared gestured at the empty side of the bench. “May I?”

Jensen’s eyes widened. “Um, I guess?”

Jared smiled at Jensen and slid onto the bench next to him, pressing his leg against Jensen’s. He could feel Jensen trembling slightly and gave him the most reassuring smile he could. “Play me your favorite song.”

Jensen looked down at the keys and swallowed hard. He spread his fingers over the keys. As he struck the first chord, he opened his mouth and started to sing. “She packed my bags last night, pre-flight…zero hour, nine a.m…and I’m gonna be high as a kite by then.” Jared grinned and tried to swallow a chuckle. 

As soon as Jensen played the run that led up to the chorus, Jared took a deep breath and joined in. He knew his singing voice was absolute crap, but he just couldn’t resist. “And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time till touchdown brings me ‘round again to find, I’m not the man they think I am at all, oh no no no…I’m a rocket man, rocket man, burning out his fuse out there alone…” 

Jensen gave Jared some serious side-eye as he tapped out the chords of the short interlude between the chorus and the bridge. Jared smiled his apology and kept his mouth shut as Jensen went on, in a much more melodic voice than Jared’s own. “Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids…in fact, it’s cold as hell…and there’s no one there to raise them, if you did…” Jensen wasn’t even looking at the keys, he was staring wistfully off into the distance. 

Jensen was practically pounding on the keys as he ramped up the volume going into the last few choruses, and when he brought the volume down for the last few lines, the effect was quite dramatic. “And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time…” Jensen’s fingers danced nimbly over the upper register keys as he played the high notes that closed out the song, and he faded out both the words and the notes just like the record did. 

“Wow,” Jared breathed. “That was amazing, Jensen. Where’d you learn to play like that? And sing?”

“I’ve been playing since I was four,” said Jensen, tracing a finger silently over the keys. “But I just sing for fun.”

“Well, you’re awesome at it.” Jared nudged Jensen’s shoulder with his own. Jensen shrugged and continued staring down at the keys. “Play something else. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.”

Jensen sat up straighter and positioned the fingers of his left hand over the keys. His eyes lit up with mischief and he launched into the Charlie Brown song. Jared chuckled openly this time. Jensen turned his head slightly in Jared’s direction and grinned. Jared raised an eyebrow as Jensen moved past the main melody and into a jazzy section that Jared didn’t think he’d ever heard before. Jensen looked loose and relaxed, not uptight like he had been when Jared first walked in. It was a good look on him.

Jensen brought the piece to a close with a few high-pitched chords and a sustained low note. He glanced up at Jared through the longest eyelashes Jared had ever seen on a guy. Jared clapped and cheered softly for him. Jensen still blushed and looked away, but he was smiling proudly. 

When Jared fell silent, Jensen started to tap out another piece that sounded strangely familiar to Jared, but that he couldn’t place until the second refrain of the melody, when Jared realized it was the theme song to _Murder, She Wrote_. Jared threw his head back and laughed, which didn’t seem to faze Jensen at all. Jensen just grinned and kept on playing. He finished the song by trailing one finger down a couple octaves of white keys and lifting it with a flourish. Jared shook his head, but he was grinning too. “Big TV fan, I’m guessing?”

“Not really,” replied Jensen. “I just can kind of…play whatever I hear.” He was looking away in embarrassment again, but Jared couldn’t imagine why. Most people would kill to have that kind of talent!

“Is that bad? ‘Cause it just sounds like you’re really gifted,” said Jared. He slid a hand down Jensen’s arm and intertwined their fingers. 

Jensen still didn’t look up. “My brother said I was a freak, because only freaks can do that.”

"Well, he was wrong,” Jared said, squeezing Jensen’s hand firmly. “You’re not a freak, you’re incredibly talented.”

"Thanks,” mumbled Jensen. 

“Play something happy,” said Jared, trying to distract him.

Jensen started to play a mid-tempo classical piece that also sounded vaguely familiar to Jared, so he figured it was Mozart or Beethoven or something else he’d heard in music class. Jensen’s posture became more rigid and his tongue appeared at the corner of his mouth as he moved into a section that was composed of a lot of rapid chords and flourishes. He was staring off into the distance again, and Jared had to marvel at Jensen’s ability to play so many different songs without sheet music. He didn’t even know if Jensen could read music or if he just always played what he heard. 

Jensen finished the classical piece and flawlessly transitioned into the opening chords of REM’s “Nightswimming.” This time Jared simply let Jensen sing, and sing he did, as perfectly as he played, but with that same wistfulness from earlier. “September’s coming soon…pining for the moon…and what if there were two, side by side in orbit, around the fairer sun…” 

Jared barely remembered to breathe, so caught up he was in the spell Jensen was weaving with his voice and the gentle musical accompaniment. When Jensen played the last sustained note, Jared finally let out the breath he was holding. He couldn’t help himself, he wrapped a hand around Jensen’s neck, turned his head, and kissed him. 

The next thing Jared felt was Jensen’s hand on his sternum, pushing him away. Jared’s eyes flew open in shock, meeting Jensen’s look of terror. Jensen jumped up from the bench and ran out of the room. Jared, still stunned, couldn’t even move. What had gone wrong? There was a connection between him and Jensen, he’d felt it, and he didn’t know how Jensen could have missed it. The way Jensen poured his heart into what was obviously a love song…had Jared read the situation completely wrong? He couldn’t have. 

But then, there was a lot about Jensen that just didn’t make sense. Like how he looked to be about Jared’s age, but often acted more like a little kid. Was there something wrong with him? Was he delayed, or challenged, or whatever the current P.C. word for mental problems was? Being able to play music after hearing it once, was that some kind of Rain Man thing? Oh God, if Jared tried to put the moves on a mentally challenged person, he would never forgive himself. 

He got up from the stool and peered around the doorframe, but Jensen was long gone. Jared sighed and went back to his room.

That night, while Jared was watering the hanging baskets that lined the porch, he ran into Jim, who was replacing one of the baskets. “I wanted to ask you something,” Jared told him.

"What?”  
   
"What’s behind the wall at the far end of the garden?”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

Jared swallowed hard. “I was pruning the ivy earlier, and I was wondering if it went over the wall, and if it was in such bad shape because it’s not being cared for on the other side,” he replied, and desperately hoped that Jim wouldn’t surmise that he had gone to the other side to get the answer.

“What’s on the other side is no business of yours,” said Jim in a tone that brooked no argument. “It’s off-limits to all staff, including me. And it’s going to stay that way.”

"O-okay,” Jared stammered. 

Jim nodded and left the porch carrying the basket he’d replaced. Jared watched him go with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He knew what he _should_ do—put the key back in the drawer and forget he’d ever seen the hidden garden. That would be the smart thing to do. But that was the exact opposite of what Jared wanted to do. 

Jared didn’t know why the sight of the dead, abandoned garden affected him so much. It was just that it had so much potential. It had been beautiful once, and Jared had no doubt that it could be beautiful again with just a little time and TLC. It didn’t deserve to be locked up forever. It didn’t deserve to be forgotten about. It deserved a chance. And Jared was going to give it one. He’d just have to be extra careful not to get caught, that’s all. 

The front door opened and Jeff walked out, carrying a briefcase. “Hello, Jared,” he said, smiling.

“Hey, Jeff. Um, are you in a hurry?” 

“Not particularly. Why?"

Jared took a deep breath. “I just wanted to ask you—Jim said that anything beyond the garden wall is off limits. Do you know why?”

Jeff sat down in a wicker rocking chair. “He didn’t tell you what’s beyond the wall?”

“No,” Jared said truthfully. “He said it was none of my business.”

Jeff smiled ruefully. “That’s true, to a certain extent. It’s a garden. A garden where something very, very bad happened. That’s all I can tell you.”

“What kind of bad thing?” asked Jared.

Jeff stood up. “Have a good evening,” was all he said. He walked down the steps and out to the parking lot.

Jared finished watering the hanging baskets and carried the watering can back to the toolshed. He was more curious than ever about the hidden garden and the circumstances that had led to its abandonment. What could be so bad that the garden had to be locked up forever? Was it contaminated? Had someone gotten sick, or even died, in there? Had someone been murdered in there? Jared’s mind raced with possibilities.

As he was scrubbing out the large fountain in the fountain garden, he started to wonder if maybe Jensen’s weird behavior was connected to the garden somehow. Maybe whatever happened in there had involved him, and had been serious enough to cause whatever kind of mental problems he seemed to have. Maybe he saw someone die, or maybe something in the garden had hurt or sickened him. Maybe the managers were afraid that the same thing would happen again. Maybe Jared was taking his life in his hands just by going in there. But Jared hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary—no weird sights, sounds, or smells; no plants or animals that shouldn’t be there; nothing sharp or jagged sticking out of the ground; and the swing was still fully intact. 

Jared sighed. He was getting nowhere. Eventually, he would have to go to the source. But he had to get Jensen to trust him first, and that would be no easy task. Jared didn’t even know if Jensen ever wanted to see him again. His reaction to the kiss was pretty definitive. 

Jared put his brushes back in the shed and locked it up for the night. On his way to his room he grabbed a plate of food from the kitchen and took it upstairs to eat. One of the kitchen guys, Steve, was sitting at the table with a plate of his own. “What’s up, kid? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

Jared sat down across from Steve. “Do you know anything about the garden on the other side of the wall?”

Steve shook his head. “Just that it’s totally off-limits, even to you guys. No one’s ever said why.”

“Jeff said something really bad happened,” said Jared. “He wouldn’t tell me what.”

“Jeff would know, he’s been here since the beginning,” said Steve. “He’s been here even longer than Samantha. He was friends with the old owners.”

“What happened to them?” asked Jared.

Steve shrugged. “I just know that they sold the place and moved out in a hurry. Don’t know why.”

“Who’d they sell it to?”

“Samantha’s husband bought it, but it was closed for a couple months in between. Guess the owners just didn’t want any part of it.”

“Huh.” Jared took a bite of his dinner. “Weird.”

“What nobody can figure out is why their son is still here,” Steve went on. “As far as anyone knows, he hasn’t left the house since then, not even to go on the porch. It’s been almost seventeen years since his parents left. Seventeen years and he’s not set a foot outside the door.”  Jared frowned. “Seventeen years? But he’s only nineteen or twenty years old. He’s been here since he was a little kid?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know, I’ve only been here two years.”

“This whole thing is really weird,” said Jared. “Do you know if they’ve ever tried to get him to leave?”

“Oh, yeah, Samantha’s wanted him gone since she took over,” answered Steve. “He just won’t go. He doesn’t listen to anyone except Jeff, and Jeff won’t kick him out.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody knows. Jeff just says he’s been through a lot and he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Maybe Jeff raised him, after his parents left,” mused Jared. “Maybe that’s why he’s so protective of him.”

“Maybe.” Steve looked doubtful.

Jared scraped the last of the food off his plate. “You think maybe Jensen was involved in whatever happened in the garden?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Steve motioned for Jared to hand him his empty plate. Jared pushed it across the table and Steve stacked it on top of his own. “You done for the night?”

“Yeah,” said Jared. 

“You want to play cards with us later? Chris gets off at seven.”

“Maybe. There’s something I gotta do first,” replied Jared. 

“Okay, see you around, then.” Steve left the room.

Jared went to his bedroom and changed out of his overalls. He couldn’t hear any music coming out of the vent, which disappointed him. He had no idea where Jensen’s room was. He couldn’t just wander around until he found it, so he just had to hope that eventually Jensen would come to the drawing room to play.

Jared walked downstairs and started toward the drawing room, but the faint sound of music caught his attention. He stopped and listened closely. It sounded like someone was singing along to a guitar. He strained his ears. It did sound like Jensen was the singer. Jared followed the sound past Samantha and Jeff’s offices to the end of a corridor, where it became much louder. Jared stepped up to the last door on the left, held his breath, and knocked.

The music cut off immediately. Jared waited, barely daring to breathe, for close to a minute before the door finally began to swing open. Jensen peered out of the crack in the door. “What do you want?”

“Can we talk?” asked Jared, stepping sideways so Jensen could see him better.

“About what?”

“About this afternoon,” said Jared. “Please? Will you let me in, at least?”

Jensen’s face disappeared and the door swung inward. Jared stepped through and allowed Jensen to close it behind him. Jared looked around. It was obviously Jensen’s bedroom. There was a wrought-iron double bed like the one in Jared’s room, and the furniture was also similar, but Jensen had bookshelves and a desk, and his guitar perched atop its own stand in the corner. A small TV with a built-in VCR sat on a small wooden shelf at the foot of the bed, and Jared could see that one of the bookshelves actually held a small collection of VHS tapes. If Jensen had been here for more than seventeen years, it made sense that he still had outdated technology. Jensen didn’t even have a computer, so he couldn’t order things from online. Jared briefly wondered if Jensen even knew what a laptop was, and he’d certainly never seen a smartphone or tablet. Jensen was almost completely out of touch with modern technology. It was almost unbelievable, in this day and age. 

“Look, Jensen…” Jared shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m really sorry for what I did. I was out of line, and I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be,” Jensen said softly, almost too softly for Jared to hear.

"What do you mean?”

Jensen looked down at the floor. “I mean, I didn’t…I didn’t not like it. It’s just…I was scared. Which is stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Jared said, stepping closer. “I surprised you, took you off guard. That can be scary.”

“Not to normal people,” muttered Jensen.

“Seriously, it’s okay,” said Jared. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t mad at me.”  “I’m not mad,” said Jensen, looking up at Jared through those ridiculously long eyelashes. “Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not!” Jared reached out and laid a hand on Jensen’s shoulder. When Jensen didn’t pull away, Jared inched even closer and put his arm around Jensen. “I was worried about you.”

Jensen gazed up at Jared and to Jared’s surprise, Jensen leaned up and kissed Jared on the lips. Jensen seemed a little hesitant, so Jared drew Jensen in closer and deepened the kiss as much as he dared. He could feel Jensen starting to relax a bit. When Jensen finally broke the kiss, his cheeks were slightly flushed and he quickly looked away from Jared. Jensen stepped back, ducking his head and refusing to meet Jared’s eyes.

Jared tipped Jensen’s chin up and smiled at him. “I liked that,” he told Jensen, and Jensen bit his lip. “I’d like to do it again, if you’ll let me.”

Jensen nodded silently and Jared captured his lips for a soft, sweet kiss that felt to Jared like an invitation to more. Jensen slid a hand up Jared’s neck and tangled his fingers in Jared’s hair. Jared leaned into Jensen, pressing their bodies together, and Jared could feel Jensen’s burgeoning excitement through his jeans. Jared smiled against Jensen’s lips.

Jensen broke the kiss, his breath coming in ragged pants like he’d forgotten to breathe while they were kissing. Jared traced Jensen’s kiss-swollen lips with one finger. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, not caring how corny he sounded. Jensen’s lips turned up in a hesitant smile, his eyes bright with affection and warmth. 

Jensen stepped backwards, eyes clouding with uncertainty, and he didn’t seem to know what to do next. Jared smiled softly and sat down on the edge of Jensen’s bed. “Play your guitar for me?”

Jensen shook his head. “I’m not very good.”

“I doubt that,” said Jared, giving him an encouraging smile. “Just play something you like.”

Jensen took a deep breath and crossed the room to retrieve his guitar from its stand. He sat down in his desk chair and plucked the strings in order, making some adjustments to the tuning pegs. Then he arranged his fingers deliberately on a few of the strings and began to strum. After a few chords, he started to sing. “And so she woke up, woke up from where she was lying still…said I gotta do something about where we’re going…”

Jared watched Jensen get caught up in the song, totally mesmerized by the movement of his fingers and his slightly raspy voice. Jensen seemed to forget that Jared was even there, and he jumped slightly when Jared started clapping after he finished the song. 

Jensen rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I just play for fun.”

“Even so, you’re incredible,” Jared replied. Jensen ducked his head, but he was smiling. 

Jensen played a couple of classic rock songs before calling it a night. Jared kissed him goodbye and headed up to his room. He set his alarm and hoped he would dream about Jensen.


	3. Part Three

The next day, Jared grabbed a hand trowel, a pair of shears, a bow rake, and a large bucket from the toolshed and set out to clear the seasonal garden of tulips in preparation for the summer planting. Jared cut several dozen of the flowers and set them aside. Samantha would put them in vases and decorate the mansion with them. Jared also set aside a few red-and-yellow tulips to take to Jensen. He knew it was kind of a girly thing to do, but since Jensen never went outside, Jared figured he’d appreciate Jared bringing a little bit of the outside to him. The tulips were quite stunning, and it was a shame that Jared had to rip them all out and compost them, but orders were orders, and Jared didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Jared dug into the soil with his trowel to expose the root balls, which he plucked out and tossed into the bucket for the compost pile. It wasn’t difficult work, but it was tedious and repetitive. He basically had to dig up the entire bed a few inches at a time.

_“This is so boring. Why can’t we just pull them out by the stem?” whined Jared._

_“Because you have to remove the roots,” his father answered, plunging the hand rake into the soil. With a single flick of his wrist, he flipped the root ball out of its hole and tossed it into the bucket. “If you leave old roots in the soil, they’ll steal water and nutrients from the new plants.”_

_Jared shoved his trowel into the soil and dug out another root ball. “Can’t you just use the big rake and expose all the roots at once? Then we’d just have to pick them up.”_

_“We don’t want to disturb the soil if we can help it,” said his father. “If we did it your way, there’d be dirt everywhere. This way is cleaner and more efficient.”_

_“But it sucks.” Jared tugged another root ball out of the bed and threw it in the bucket much harder than he needed to. It almost bounced back out again._

_“Hey, it’s not a baseball,” chided his father. “You’ve got quite an arm there, kiddo.”_

_Jared grinned proudly. “Maybe we can play catch after dinner?”_

_“Sounds good to me.”_

Jared finally dug up the last of the root balls and stood up, knees creaking, to retrieve the bow rake. He raked the displaced soil back into all the holes he’d made, leveling the bed in preparation for the new plants that he’d be adding at the end of the week. After he finished raking, he picked up the bucket and dumped it in the compost tumbler. He went back to the toolshed to get the wheelbarrow and shovel. He wheeled them out to the compost tumbler, which he rolled once to mix the compost. He filled the wheelbarrow with the compost and took it out to the bed to spread.

The sun was high overhead now, beating mercilessly on the back of his neck and arms. Jared shoved his sweat-dampened hair off his face and started shoveling compost onto the flowerbed. He used the rake to spread it over the entire bed and leveled it off the way he’d leveled the topsoil. By the time he finished, it was time to knock off for the morning.

Jared carried the cut tulips into the mansion and delivered the bulk of them to Samantha’s office. He went to the kitchen and ran water over a paper towel, then wrapped it around the cut edges of the stems of the tulips he planned to give to Jensen. He walked down the hall, listening for the piano, and finally heard what sounded like a warmup exercise as he neared the drawing room.

Jared hid the tulips behind his back and leaned against the door to watch Jensen play. Jensen started on a song Jared had never heard, a slow ballad that sounded like waves rolling gently along the shore. When he finished, Jared stepped into the room and placed a hand on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen smiled up at him and Jared kissed his forehead.

"I have something for you,” said Jared. 

Jensen stood up from the bench and turned to face Jared. “What is it?”  
   
Jared brought the tulips out from behind his back and smiled. He was shocked when Jensen’s eyes widened in panic and he backed away, stumbling over the leg of the piano bench and falling to the floor. “Get them away!” he yelled, tears welling up his eyes. “Get them away from me!”

Jared’s face fell. “I just—I thought—“

“Get them away! Now!” Jensen screeched, tears streaming down his face. He covered his eyes with his hand and crawled back to sit against the piano. He brought his knees up to his chest and pressed his face to them. “Go away, go away, go away, go away,” he muttered in between sobs.

Jared ran out of the room and dropped the tulips into the nearest trash can. He had no idea what the hell Jensen’s problem was. He suddenly thought back to Chris and Steve telling him about Jensen’s tantrums. He’d never in a million years thought he’d cause one himself. He was so confused.

He walked back in the drawing room. “They’re gone, okay? I got rid of them,” Jared assured him. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I don’t know what I did, but God, I’m so sorry.”  
 J  
Jensen sniffled and lifted his head to look forlornly at Jared. His face was shiny and streaked with tears, and his cheeks were a bright flaming red, nearly obscuring his freckles. “Are you mad at me?”

Jared shook his head. “God, of course not! I just—I don’t understand. What’s so bad about flowers?”

“They’re not safe,” Jensen replied, dragging a hand over his face to dry the tears. His breath hitched. “They’re from outside. Bad things live outside.”

“What kind of bad things?” Jared slid down to the floor and crawled to the piano to sit next to Jensen. He wrapped an arm around Jensen and held him close. 

“Things that hurt,” said Jensen. His chest heaved as he fought to regulate his breathing. “They bite, they sting. They want to hurt us.”

“Bugs?” Jared frowned. What was so bad about bugs? Most of them were completely harmless. Yeah, mosquitoes bit and bees stung, but—oh, shit.

“Are you allergic to bee stings?” asked Jared. 

Jensen nodded, sniffling. Jared pulled Jensen even closer and Jensen rested his head on Jared’s shoulder. 

Jared rubbed Jensen’s back. “I can see why that would be scary,” said Jared. “But it’s okay now. No bees here.”

Jensen buried his face in Jared’s neck and breathed heavily. This close, Jared could feel that he was still shaking. “I’m such a freak,” muttered Jensen.

“You’re not,” Jared said, squeezing his shoulders. “You can't help being scared. I don’t blame you. It’s a scary situation.”

Jensen sighed, his breath hot against Jared’s skin. “Hey, let’s go to your room, okay?” Jared climbed stiffly to his feet and held out a hand to help Jensen up. Jensen pressed himself against Jared and Jared slipped his arm around Jensen’s shoulders. “It’s all right, everything’s fine, you’re okay,” Jared murmured, guiding Jensen through the halls. He was extremely grateful that they didn’t encounter anyone else on the way. 

Jensen unlocked his door and Jared led Jensen to his bed. Jensen flopped down and curled up in a ball. Jared sat down next to him and rubbed his back until Jensen’s breath grew deep and even in sleep. 

Jared sat on Jensen’s bed, wondering what he should do. He wanted to shower and then grab some food, but he wasn’t sure if Jensen would be upset if Jared wasn’t there when he woke up. He didn’t want to upset Jensen any more than he already had.

Jensen was such a mystery. Every time Jared found out something new about him, he ended up with even more questions. Surely Jensen hadn’t holed himself up inside the mansion for seventeen years just because he was afraid of bees. Also, if Jensen had been here for seventeen years, why didn’t he look older? Surely his parents wouldn’t have left a three- or four-year-old behind to fend for himself with only Jeff and the other staff members for company. But what else could explain it? Maybe that’s why Jensen was so screwed up emotionally. Being abandoned by your parents at an extremely young age would mess anybody up. 

Jared gazed down at Jensen. He looked so young and innocent in slumber. Not for the first time, Jared wondered if his feelings for Jensen were inappropriate. Or maybe even his feelings were confused. He felt so protective of Jensen; maybe he was misinterpreting that as affection. He barely even knew anything about Jensen, other than the bits and pieces he’d picked up secondhand. The only thing he could really say for sure was that Jensen was an extremely talented musician. 

Jared’s stomach growled, and he carefully examined Jensen’s sleeping form. He didn’t look like he was going to wake up anytime soon, so Jared gingerly crawled off the bed and opened the door, closing it silently behind him. He stopped at the kitchen, where a plate of fried chicken and potato salad was waiting for him, before going on to the staff quarters to eat. The common room was empty, so Jared ate in silence. He left his empty plate on the table and quickly showered and changed before taking the plate back to the kitchen.

Jared stopped outside Jensen’s room and wondered if he should risk waking Jensen by knocking on the door. It turned out he didn’t need to; the door swung open and Jensen’s face lit up when he saw Jared.

"Hey, are you feeling better?” asked Jared as he stepped into Jensen’s room.

Jensen nodded. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. Are you mad at me?”

"Of course not,” Jared assured him. “Why do you always ask me that?”

"Because everybody’s always mad at me,” answered Jensen. He looked down at the floor. “I mess everything up. Nobody wants me here.”

"I’m sure that’s not true,” said Jared. He stepped forward and took Jensen’s hand, squeezing it gently. “What about Jeff? He likes you, right?”

Jensen shook his head. His voice trembled as he spoke. “He says I don’t belong here.”

Jared took a deep breath. This was his chance to finally get some answers. “Jensen, why are you still here?”

Jensen shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere else to go,” he murmured. 

"Why don’t you go live with your parents?” Jared asked gently.

“I don’t know where they are,” said Jensen. “They left me here. They don’t want me.”

Jared’s eyes widened. “Did they tell you that?”

“They didn’t have to.” Jensen’s breath hitched. “I just woke up one day and they were gone. And they never came back. They never called. They forgot about me.”

"God, Jensen…” Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen’s shaking shoulders and hugged him tight, trying to project all the love that Jensen so rightly deserved. “Not everybody here wants you gone. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad I get to spend time with you. I like you a lot. And I’m always gonna be here for you.”

The shoulder of Jared’s t-shirt grew damp. “I like you too,” whispered Jensen. 

For a long moment, Jared just held Jensen, silently offering as much strength and support as he could. Finally, when the tears and sniffling stopped, Jared stepped back and smiled at Jensen. “You want to go play some music? Take your mind off all this crap?”  
   
Jensen nodded and returned Jared’s smile with a wobbly one of his own. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

Jared followed Jensen to the drawing room and sat down next to him on the piano bench. Jensen positioned his fingers over the keys and started playing something that Jared had never heard before. It didn’t sound like a classical piece, but it didn’t sound like a pop song either, until Jensen started to sing. “They say that these are not the best of times, but they’re the only times I’ve ever known…And I believe that there’s a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own…Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover’s eyes, and I can only stand apart and sympathize, but we are always what our situations hand us, it’s either sadness or euphoria.”

Despite Jensen’s earlier distress, his voice was strong and steady. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be far, far away. His fingers were deft and sure, dancing over the keyboard with seemingly no effort at all. It sounded like a technically demanding song to Jared, since it featured a whole lot of notes at a fairly fast clip, even during the singing parts. 

“…Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity, our reason coexists with our insanity, and though we choose between reality and madness, it’s either sadness or euphoria.”

Jared just sat and listened, stunned at how Jensen had picked a song that seemed to encapsulate the entire situation so well. As he faded out the last notes like the original recording must have done, he hesitantly glanced over at Jared and bit his lip.

“What’s that called?” asked Jared softly, not wanting to break the spell.

“Summer, Highland Falls,” Jensen answered. “It’s by Billy Joel. It was my mom’s favorite song.”

“It’s a nice song,” said Jared, though that really wasn’t adequate to express everything he wanted to say. “She must have liked to hear you play it.”

Jensen nodded. “She always asked me to play it when she was feeling sad.”

“So you play it when you’re feeling sad?” guessed Jared.

“Yeah.” Jensen traced a fingertip along a black key. “There’s a lot I don’t remember about them, but I remember that.”

Jared’s throat became uncomfortably tight. If memories were all Jensen had of his parents, and he was even losing those…no wonder Jensen was so emotional all the time. 

“I don’t know what I would do if I were you,” said Jared. “I mean, my parents aren’t perfect—fuck, I took this job to get away from them. But I shouldn’t have.” His breath caught in his throat. “My dad, he’s, uh…he’s dying.” Jared nearly choked on the word. “It’s like, he’s changed into this completely different person. I barely recognize him. He’s not my dad. He’s somebody else now. Somebody that I don’t want to spend any time with. And I know I suck. I know I’m a terrible person. But I just—I _can’t_.”

Jensen reached down and grasped Jared’s hand. He turned to Jared and looked right into his eyes. “You’re not a terrible person.”

Jared shook his head. “I am. He’s dying. He’s not gonna even be here much longer, and instead of hanging out with him, telling him that I love him, that I’m gonna miss him, I’m here. I’m hiding from him. Who does that?”

“You do,” said Jensen. “It doesn’t make you terrible. It makes you real.”

Jared blinked back tears. “Maybe I don’t wanna be real. Real people get scared. Real people fuck up. I never thought that’d be me. I don’t want it to be.”

“I want you to be,” said Jensen. He placed a hand on Jared’s cheek and turned his head so he could kiss him. “It makes me feel better,” he went on. “To know you’re not perfect. You’re like me.” His lips quirked up into the shadow of a smile. “We can be scared and screwed up together.”

That night, Jared went about his usual routine of watering all the hanging baskets on the porch. After he finished that, he mowed the front lawn and the small expanse of grass in the back that hadn’t been removed to facilitate the gardens. He also cleaned the fountains and made sure none of the drip irrigation lines were clogged. Lastly, he gathered up another load of compost and spread it over the seasonal garden to prepare it for the planting he would be doing the next day. Jim had finally retrieved the flats of marigold, zinnia, and begonia transplants from the nursery in town so Jared could place them in the seasonal garden. 

It wasn’t particularly tough work, but it was messy and strenuous, and by the time Jared was done he felt as gross as he probably looked. His hair was matted down with sweat, his shirt was sticking to his back, and his hands and arms were streaked with soil. He stomped through the back door, intent on showering and changing as soon as humanly possible, when a hand clamped down on his wrist and someone tugged him into a small alcove.

“You look so good like that,” said Jensen. He traced one finger down Jared’s cheek to his chin. “All sweaty and dirty. It’s hot.” Jensen leaned up and pressed his lips to Jared’s, his touch soft, as though he were awaiting permission to do more.

It wasn’t what Jared was expecting, not in the least, but it was easy to forget his earlier discomfort under the onslaught of Jensen’s lips. Jensen’s hands wandered down Jared’s dirt-streaked arms to his ass, and then around to his cock, which was quickly hardening in response to Jensen’s touch.

“We can’t,” gasped Jared. “Not here.”

“My room,” replied Jensen, and he broke the kiss with a succulent _pop_ that brought Jared to full, almost painful arousal. He tugged Jared’s hand, leading him around the corner to his room. As soon as the two of them were through the door, Jared slammed Jensen up against it and kissed him breathless. He heard the lock click, and Jensen soon set about the task of getting Jared out of his work overalls. Jared’s lips worked their way down Jensen’s neck as Jensen unfastened the straps and shoved Jared’s overalls to the floor. He broke contact with Jensen just long enough to pull his shirt over his head and toss it aside, while Jensen did the same. Jensen stepped out of his jeans and pulled Jared down onto his bed. 

Jared landed on his back and Jensen crashed onto the bed next to him, his kiss-swollen lips slightly parted and pupils blown wide with lust in the fading light of dusk. Jared shifted to straddle Jensen’s hips and pressed his lips to Jensen’s collarbone, his teeth grazing the skin there, drawing a choked-off moan from Jensen. His earlier reluctance utterly forgotten, Jared reached for Jensen’s already-leaking cock and thumbed away a bead of precome. Jensen gasped as Jared’s work-roughened fingers closed around the velvet heat of Jensen’s length and jacked him with strong, sure strokes. Jensen threw his head back and Jared pressed a kiss to the smooth expanse of Jensen’s neck, tonguing his pulse point. 

The noises Jensen was making shot straight to Jared’s rock-hard dick, and he pressed his own erection against Jensen’s, fisting both their cocks in one hand. Jensen ran a hand up Jared’s spine, causing him to shiver, and tangled his fibers in Jared’s shaggy, sweat-dampened hair. Jared laved a trail down Jensen’s chest to one nipple and took the stiffened bud between his teeth, pressing down just enough to draw a throaty moan from Jensen. Jensen raked his fingernails down Jared’s back, hard enough to leave marks. The pain only sharpened Jared’s senses, which were nearly overloading as it was. 

Jared’s tongue continued its journey down the ladder of Jensen’s taut abs to his cock. Jared took the head of Jensen’s cock into his mouth and flicked his tongue over the slit, causing Jensen to buck his hips and thrust his dick even deeper into Jared’s mouth. Jared responded by laving a stripe down the sensitive underside of Jensen’s dick until he had taken nearly the whole length into his mouth. 

Jared jacked his own cock roughly until Jensen reached down and nudged Jared’s fingers aside. Jared let Jensen stroke him with fingers that had known only the caress of ivory keys and not the trials of hard labor like Jared’s. Jensen’s fingers were firm and dexterous but so much softer than his own.

At the same time, Jensen fucked into Jared’s mouth with an intensity that belied his sweet, seemingly gentle nature. Jared cupped Jensen’s balls with his rough laborer’s fingers and Jensen lost it, spurting his come down Jared’s throat. Jared closed his fingers over Jensen’s and jacked himself roughly, more roughly than Jensen had dared, to bring himself to completion as well. 

Jared sank down on the mattress next to Jensen, who brushed Jared’s sweat-soaked hair out of his eyes and kissed him tenderly. “It’s been so long,” whispered Jensen. “I almost…forgot. What it’s like.”

“It was good, right?” asked Jared, suddenly terrified that he had made a huge mistake.

“Incredibly good,” answered Jensen, and Jared sighed with relief. “I think I love you.”

“You think?”

Jensen’s cheeks colored. “Okay, I know. I love you.”

Jared pressed a light kiss to Jensen’s temple. “I love you too.”


	4. Part Four

The next morning, Jared retrieved the key to the secret garden from the dresser drawer where he’d hidden it. He had a lot of planting to do, but he was hoping to get in and at least do a little bit of weeding and clear some of the dead foliage. He tucked the key in his pocket, grabbed his sunglasses, and headed out to the gardens. 

Jared retrieved the wheelbarrow from the toolshed and toted the flats of transplants out to the seasonal garden one by one. He was already sweating when he placed the last one next to the raised bed. Then he had to go back to the toolshed to retrieve his planting tools. 

The work was mostly routine. Dig a hole, ease the root ball of the transplant out of its pot, set it in the hole, and fill in the soil around it, making sure not to pack it too loosely or too tightly. It didn’t require any thought at all, really. Jared had done it so many times that he could basically rely on muscle memory. One summer he and his dad had planted over 1,000 petunias and pansies in a single condominium complex and the clubhouse area of the golf course that adjoined it. They were a well-oiled machine in those days, Jared digging while his father placed the flowers in the ground and surrounded them with soil and cocoa bean mulch they procured from a nearby chocolate factory. Jared loved cocoa bean mulch. It made the whole lot smell like freshly-baked brownies. Jared didn’t even like chocolate that much, but he loved the scent of it. It reminded him of home, of the carefree vacation days of his youth. A simpler time. 

A time he could never return to, no matter how much he missed it.

With his hands basically working on autopilot, Jared found himself gazing in the direction of Jensen’s room. He strained his eyes, trying to find Jensen’s face in the window, but he couldn’t see clearly from so far away. Not for the first time he wished he could have Jensen at his side, but with Jensen’s aversion to the outdoors it was a wish that could never come true. Jared wondered how Jensen could possibly be satisfied with the situation. That kind of forced confinement would drive Jared crazy in no time. Flowers and grass and dirt had been such a vital part of Jared’s life from so early on that Jared couldn’t imagine life without them. Even though he hadn’t intended to take over the family landscaping business so early, he’d always known he’d eventually be called upon to do so. His father had been crushed when Jeff went off to medical school and left the family business behind forever. Jared never even considered doing the same when he saw how upset it made him. His dad even talked enthusiastically about Jared’s future children following in their footsteps. 

The sun beat down relentlessly on Jared’s back and shoulders. Jared winced as sweat dripped into his eyes, and he tried to dust off some of the soil caked on his hands before he pulled the collar of his t-shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. The soil on the surface of the bed was hot and crumbly from the sun, but even just a couple inches down it was cool and moist and healthy. 

Three hours later, Jared’s task was finally finished. He wheeled the empty flats back to the toolshed and put away his hand tools. Then he checked the settings on the drip sprinkler to make sure the new plants would get a little extra water. Not so much as to drown them, but enough to make sure the plants would overcome the trauma of being moved around so much in so little time. 

Jared gathered his weeding tools and a bucket and headed off to unlock the secret garden. He glanced around quickly, and seeing no one, quickly stepped through the doorway and pulled the door shut behind him. He set the bucket down and went to work on the weeds and dead foliage with his hand weeder and cultivator. The place was a mess. Creeping charlie and purslane had nearly taken over the flowerbeds, and the grass was studded with violets, clover, and dandelions, which, he had to admit, at least gave it some color. Jared piled the weeds in the bucket. Thirty minutes later, the pail was almost half full. 

By that time, Jared had worked his way into the far corner of the garden, where the inner and outer walls joined. As he worked to clear out a particularly stubborn patch of creeping charlie, his fingers brushed against something hard and cold. Jared pulled back the flat green leaves to reveal the corner of a flat block of marble. It looked like a grave marker, but surely no one was buried under the garden? Maybe it was just commemorative. Maybe someone really had died in here.

Jared continued to shove back the leaves until the entire marker was uncovered. Jared shaded his eyes from the sun and squinted down at the etched-in lettering. 

_**Jensen Ross Ackles  
March 1, 1978 — June 16, 1997** _

Jared’s breath caught in his throat. Surely it couldn’t mean—it wasn’t—no, there had to be an explanation. Maybe it was Jensen’s dad. Maybe both his parents were dead. 

Jared scrabbled around, shoving aside the leaves and searching for another marker. He didn’t find one. But that had to be it. Jensen’s father had died, and his mother, overcome with grief, had sold the mansion and left Jensen behind to be raised there. Maybe Jensen had been involved in whatever accident that had killed his father. Maybe that was why his mother didn’t want anything to do with him. 

But the more Jared thought about it, the less sense it made. Jared glanced at the numbers on the stone and did the math in his head. Jensen—the dead Jensen—had only been nineteen. That was awfully young to have a three- or four-year-old kid. 

Jared sat back on his haunches and considered the stone again. It didn’t say “beloved husband” or “father” like headstones usually did. But it didn’t say “beloved son” either. 

Jared tried to force that possibility out of his head. Just because Jensen looked nineteen didn’t mean he actually was nineteen. And just because the date of death was seventeen years ago…

No. That was impossible. Ghosts weren’t real. Jared had touched him. You can’t touch a ghost. Fuck, Jared had _blown_ him. Surely ghosts couldn’t come. That was ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that Jared laughed out loud. 

Jared shook his head. The sun was getting to him, that was all. He gathered his tools and the bucket of weeds and carried them to the compost tumbler. He dumped the weeds in and gave it a turn. He then headed to the toolshed to hang up his tools before going back to the mansion to shower.

But as Jared stood under the warm water, his mind kept going back to the grave marker. Something bad had happened in that garden, that much he knew. And someone dying was certainly a bad thing. But it couldn’t have been Jensen, his Jensen, that died. Because then Jensen would be a ghost, and ghosts weren’t real. They just weren’t. It had to have been his father. His nineteen-year-old father. Who died seventeen years ago, leaving behind a traumatized kid who grew up without his biological parents in the place where his father died. That would screw any kid up. And that screwed-up kid was afraid to go outside because the garden held such horrible memories for him.  
   
But how much could a three- or four-year-old remember seventeen years later? Jared didn’t have any clear memories from those days. But maybe if something as bad as a parent’s death had happened, that would stick with you. Maybe Jensen didn’t even remember the death itself, but the bad feelings associated with it. 

But it just didn’t make sense. And the more Jared thought about Jensen being a ghost, the more sense that started to make. Jensen was afraid to go outside. If Jensen had died in the garden, as the headstone seemed to suggest, then of course he would be afraid of the outdoors. Jensen woke up and his parents were gone. Maybe he’d woken up in the garden after dying and his parents had already, in their grief, moved away and sold the place. Jensen had memory problems and often acted strangely. Maybe that was a side effect of being a ghost. Jeff said Jensen didn’t belong there. Because he was dead, he didn’t belong on earth at all. He belonged in heaven.

Holy shit. It all made sense.

_Holy shit!_

Jared’s breath caught in his throat. Jensen was dead.

_Jensen was dead._

Jared didn’t want it to be true. But it had to be true. Nothing else made sense.

He’d blown a dead guy. The absurdity hit him and he started to laugh. He laughed until tears streamed down his face, washed away by the water, and his stomach started to hurt. But then he realized he wasn’t actually laughing, he was crying. He slid down into the bathtub and drew his knees up to his chest. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t _fair_. Jensen was such an amazing person, even with all his flaws. He shouldn’t be dead. He didn’t deserve to die so young. He should have had a whole life ahead of him. Being trapped in a mansion, slowly losing all his memories…God, Jensen so didn’t deserve that. 

A knock on the door interrupted Jared’s thoughts. He sucked in a breath. “Just a minute!” he yelled, and turned off the water. He wrapped a towel around his waist and left the bathroom without even looking at the person waiting.

“You okay, kid?” asked the person. Jared stopped, but didn’t turn around. It sounded like Jeff.

“Not really,” muttered Jared. He walked down to his room and threw open the door.

After Jared had dried off and gotten dressed, he opened his door to take his towel back to the bathroom and was surprised to see Jeff standing there.

“We need to talk,” was all he said.

Jared just nodded. After a quick stop in the bathroom, he sat down at the dining table across from Jeff.

“I saw you coming out of the garden,” said Jeff. “You know it’s off limits. How did you even find the key?”

“I, uh…I went looking for it,” Jared admitted.

“You realize if Jim had caught you, you wouldn’t even be sitting here right now. He’ d have fired you on the spot.”  
 Jared nodded and sniffled. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m guessing you found something you didn’t want to find.”

Jared’s head snapped up. “You know? About Jensen? That he’s—he’s—“

“I was there,” said Jeff.

“What happened?”

Jeff took a deep breath. “Jensen and his older brother were playing catch in the garden. His brother accidentally hit a wasp’s nest with the baseball. The wasps swarmed and stung both of them. Nobody knew that Jensen was seriously allergic. His throat closed up so fast, there wasn’t any time to get him help. He died right there, before the ambulance came.”

“Oh, God,” murmured Jared. 

“The doctors tried really hard to revive him, but it just didn’t work. He was gone.”

Jared swiped hot tears out of his eyes with the heel of his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. What was there to say?

“His ghost—for lack of a better word—showed up about three days later, right after his parents went to stay with relatives. They never came back. They sent movers to get all their stuff and they found a house in town. I didn’t know what to tell him. He kept roaming the mansion looking for his parents. He did that for months. I tried to tell him what happened, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

“He doesn’t know he’s dead?”

Jeff shook his head sadly. “I’ve never been able to get it through to him."

“But how does he—I’ve touched him. How can I touch him?”

“I don’t have all the answers,” replied Jeff. “But I know someone who might.”

Jared stood in front of the small, neatly-kept house and wondered, not for the first time, what Jeff was thinking. A psychic. Seriously? First ghosts were real, and now psychics were real? Jared’s world was crumbling around him. All the things he thought he knew were breaking down. Was nothing as it seemed? 

He looked at the hand-lettered sign on the front porch railing that proclaimed it to be the home of “Kim Rhodes, Medium. Readings done Mon-Sat by appt.” He slowly walked up the steps and rang the doorbell. 

The woman who greeted him a moment later didn’t look anything like Jared expected. She was a completely normal-looking woman with short, dark hair who seemed to be about his mother’s age. She didn’t look anything like the fortune tellers in movies or TV. “Hello. You must be Jared. I’m Kim.” She held out a hand and Jared shook it nervously. “Come on in.”

Jared followed Kim into the living room, where Kim motioned for him to sit in an easy chair. She sat down on the couch across from him. Jared glanced around, but he didn’t see any crystal balls or tarot cards or anything else normally associated with fortune telling.

“Did Jeff tell you anything about me?” she asked.

Jared shook his head. “He just said you might have the answers about the—“ The word got stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried again. “The ghost at the mansion.”

She nodded. “Do you know what I do?”

"Not really, no.”

She smiled. “I’m not a crystal-ball psychic. I’m a medium. I can communicate with the spirits of dead people who are still on earth. Some of them are visible to the average person, but many of them are only visible and audible to me, and other people like me. It’s a rare gift. I can’t see the future or anything like that, and I can’t see or hear people that have already crossed over to the spirit realm.”

“The spirit realm, is that like heaven?”

“It is.” She stood up. “Would you like some iced tea? I’m going to get some.”

“No thanks,” said Jared.

Kim went to the kitchen and came back with a large glass of tea. “I know you have a lot of questions. Hopefully I’ll have the answers.”

Jared took a deep breath. “I can see Jensen, and I can touch him. He feels like a real person. Why is that?”

Kim took a sip of tea. “The short version is this: Jensen has a physical presence because he believes he does. If he stops believing that he’s a real, alive person, he’ll cease to have that physical presence.”  
   
"So ‘I think, therefore I am’ is literal?” Jared raised an eyebrow. It sounded kind of absurd, to be honest.

Kim chuckled. “In a manner of speaking, you’re exactly right. Jensen’s spirit manifests itself with a physical ‘body’ because he expects to feel that body. But it takes a lot of psychic energy to manifest a physical presence. Other facets of his spirit have likely been compromised.”

“Compromised how?”

“For one thing, he probably doesn’t have very much control over his emotions.”

“Oh my God, you have no idea,” Jared admitted. “Sometimes he cries and screams like a little kid. And he’s extremely sensitive. At first I thought he might be mentally challenged or something.”

Kim nodded and took another sip of tea. “A spirit’s personality inevitably starts to break down. The longer they stay on earth, the worse it is. Memories are the next thing to go. Both personality and memory involve an interplay between the spirit and the brain. Without a physical brain, neither of those can survive indefinitely.”

"Jensen’s been here for seventeen years,” said Jared. “He said he doesn’t remember much about his parents. It’s only going to get worse, the longer he stays?”

“I’m afraid so.” 

“So what—what can I do for him? I want to help him.”

“He needs to come to terms with what happened,” said Kim.  
   
"The way he died, you mean?”

Kim nodded. “He needs to relive his death. It might help to take him back to the place where he died.”

“He died in a garden,” said Jared, “but that garden’s been locked since he died. Most of the plants are dead. Would it help if I could make the garden look like it did back then?”

“It would,” replied Kim. “The closer you can get to recreating the circumstances of his death, the better chance you have of getting through to him.”

Jared frowned. “The garden’s completely off limits. I could get fired if I get caught working in there.”

“I’m going to be straight with you, Jared. Jeff and I have already tried to help Jensen, and we couldn’t. He’s very, very stubborn. I don’t know that you can get through to him any other way.”

Jared sighed and closed his eyes. He really needed his job. He definitely didn’t want to get fired, because then he’d have to leave the mansion, and Jensen, and go back home. But he’d already been caught in the garden once. He’d just have to be super careful, that was all. He really didn’t want Jensen to go on suffering now that he knew there was something he could do for him.

He stood up. “Thank you so much. This was really helpful.”

“I’m glad,” said Kim with a smile. “Good luck. I hope you succeed. For both your sakes.”

Jared completed his afternoon work in a daze. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything Jeff and Kim had told him. And as much as he wanted to help Jensen come to terms with his death and find peace, he also wanted to be with Jensen, and of course he wouldn’t be able to do that if Jensen crossed over to the other side. Wasn’t it horribly selfish to want to keep Jensen with him when Jensen clearly didn’t belong here? 

Jared entered the toolshed to put away his tools, and afterwards he retrieved the key to the secret garden from the desk drawer. He stuffed it into his pocket and locked the toolshed, glancing around to make sure there was no one around. He walked all the way around the garden and, after determining that he was alone, unlocked the garden and slipped silently inside. 

He spent about half an hour pulling weeds by hand and piling them up in one corner for later removal. When his watch alarm indicated that his shift was over, he carefully opened the door just a crack and peered out. When he didn’t see any sign of Jim or Jeff, he walked out the door and locked it behind him. 

When Jared walked into the mansion, Jensen was waiting for him at the back door. “Where were you?” he asked, frowning. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jared. “I, uh, had some errands to run.”

Jensen pulled Jared into an alcove and kissed him, echoing their last intimate encounter. But this time, Jared’s heart just wasn’t in it. He broke the kiss and closed his fingers around Jensen’s wrist. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

Jared swallowed hard. “Not here. Let’s go to your room.”

Jensen led Jared to his room and the two of them sat down on the bed. “Look, Jensen, I—shit.” Jared ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t bear to meet Jensen’s concerned gaze. “What do you remember about the day your parents left?”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why do you ask?”

“Just…humor me, okay?”

Jensen turned toward the window. “I was in the garden. My brother and I were tossing a baseball. I don’t know what happened, but I couldn’t breathe. I guess I blacked out. When I woke up, my brother was gone. I went inside to find my parents, but they were gone too.” He sniffled, and his voice trembled. “And they never came back.”

“Did you ever consider…” Jared took a deep breath. “That when you blacked out, it was because you died? You’re allergic to bees, maybe you got stung? And you stopped breathing?”

Jensen frowned. “I don’t remember getting stung.”

“Maybe you blocked it out? Because it was so painful? Or maybe because you passed out?”

"Maybe," said Jensen, but he looked doubtful.

"I'm just thinking...if you died out in the garden, maybe that's why you couldn't find your parents when you woke up. They probably left in a hurry."

“I don’t feel dead,” said Jensen, running a hand down his chest. “I have a body. How could I have a body if I’m dead?”

“Maybe you only feel it because you expect to.”

Jensen scoffed. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Jared’s heart sank. “I guess it is kind of dumb.”

“Besides, I can touch you.” Jensen placed a hand on Jared’s knee and slowly slid it up towards Jared’s groin, but Jared pushed it away. Jensen’s face fell. “Aw, come on.”

“This is serious. I’m trying to tell you that you’re dead, Jensen. You’re a ghost. And you need to accept that.”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” argued Jensen. “But _I’m_ real.” He seized Jared’s hand and pressed it to his half-hard dick. “And my feelings for you are real.”

Jared moved his hand away. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have feelings for you too.”

“Are you trying to break up with me?” demanded Jensen, his voice rising in both pitch and volume.

“No, that’s not it at all!” Jared grasped Jensen’s wrists. “I’m trying to help you because I care about you and I want you to be happy.”

“I’m happy with _you_.” Jensen looked down at their joined hands. “But I guess you’re not happy with me.”

“It’s not that. I just…” Jared sighed. “Forget it. It’s not worth it.”

"I don’t want you to be mad at me,” said Jensen in a small voice.

“I’m not mad,” Jared assured him. “I’m sad. I’m sad because you’re only living half a life here. I want more for you than that. But you have to want more than that, too.”

Jensen looked up. “I don’t get it.”

“You will.” Jared wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and pulled him in close. They stayed like that for a long while, Jensen safe and content in Jared’s arms.


	5. Part Five

The next morning dawned gray and gloomy. Jared went out to the toolshed and gathered his fountain-cleaning supplies. Brushing out the fountain and adjusting the chlorine levels in the water only kept him busy for half an hour, and the whole time his thoughts kept drifting to Jensen. He completed the rest of his morning work in a daze before turning his attention to the secret garden.

As Jared pulled weeds from the flowerbeds and removed the plants that were beyond hope, he wondered what the garden had meant to Jensen when he was alive. Did Jensen appreciate the work that went into maintaining it, or had he barely noticed the colorful flowers? Had he ever helped take care of the garden? He didn’t know how to bring the subject up with Jensen. Or if Jensen would even remember the answers after all this time. 

After about an hour, the clouds finally broke and the sun crept out to illuminate the garden. Jared had finished weeding the bed closest to the door, so now he could start on the bed opposite the door. With the return of the sun came warmer temperatures, and soon sweat was dripping down Jared’s face and neck, soaking his shirt and making it stick to his back. 

“Jared!”

The shout startled Jared out of his reverie. His boss, Jim, was calling him. _Shit, shit, shit._ Jared took a deep breath and prepared to face the music. He was screwed. So, so completely screwed.

Jared opened the door and stepped out to face Jim. Jim’s face darkened and the glare he leveled at Jared could have melted steel. “What were you doing in there?” he demanded.

"I was just cleaning up,” replied Jared in a small voice. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have—“

"Damn right you shouldn’t have!” barked Jim. “You’re fired.”

Jared’s breath caught in his throat. “Please, I need this job.”

“You should have thought of that before you broke the rules.” Jim held his hand out. “Hand over the key. Now.”

Jared pulled the key out of his pocket and held it out to Jim. Jim grabbed it and pointed at the house. “You have one hour to pack and get going. Samantha will mail you your last paycheck.”

“Please, I’m so sorry, I’ll never go back in there again,” pleaded Jared. “Can’t I have another chance. _Please_?”

Jim shook his head. “No. You knew the rules and you chose to break them. Now you have to face the consequences.” He looked down at his watch. “Fifty-nine minutes. Go.”

Jared trudged back to the mansion. What was he going to tell Jensen? Even the idea of losing out on half a summer’s worth of pay wasn’t as bad as the idea of leaving Jensen behind to gradually lose what little was left of his mind. His chest constricted as he thought of Jensen sitting at the piano, alone, year after year, until he forgot everyone and everything he’d ever known. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. It didn’t matter what happened to Jared. Jared would survive. Jensen was all that mattered.

Jared could hear music coming from the drawing room, something light and bouncy. Jared stood in the doorway, unwilling to disturb Jensen. This was how he wanted to remember him. He tried to burn the image into his mind. A tear spilled over onto his cheek. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t _fair_.

The piece ended, and Jensen turned around. His face fell when he saw Jared. “What’s wrong?”

Jared sniffled. “I got fired. I have to leave.”

“You can’t!” Jensen cried. “You can’t leave me.”

"I don’t want to, but I think I have to. I don’t know what else I can do.”

Jensen stepped forward and seized Jared’s hand. “We’ll talk to Jeff,” he said, nodding in determination. He tugged Jared’s hand and led him to Jeff’s office.

Jared knocked hesitantly on the door. A moment later, it swung open. “Jared? What’s wrong? Come in.” 

“Jim fired me,” said Jared. “You were right. He caught me coming out of the garden, and he got really pissed and told me I had to get out in an hour.”

Jeff sighed and sat in his chair. “And you want to know if there’s anything I can do about it.” 

“Is there?” Jared glanced over at Jensen, who was hovering nervously outside the door. “Jensen doesn’t want me to leave. And I don’t want to leave him.”

Jeff shook his head. “You’re Jim’s employee, not mine. I’m afraid I can’t override his decision.”

Jared looked down at the floor. “It’s not fair,” he muttered. “Why’s he so upset, anyway? It’s not like I was doing anything bad. I was trying to do something good.”

“Jim always blamed himself for Jensen’s death,” said Jeff, his voice heavy with sympathy. “The garden was his responsibility. He thought he should have noticed the wasps’ nest and removed it, but he didn’t. And Jensen paid the price for it.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Jared pushed a sweat-soaked lock of hair out of his eyes. “There really isn’t anything you can do?”

“I wish there was,” said Jeff. “You’re good for him. He’s going to seriously deteriorate without you.”

“I know.” Jared held a hand out and Jensen stepped inside the office and joined them. Jared slid an arm around Jensen’s shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in Jensen’s ear. 

"Jeff, please,” begged Jensen. “You have to do something. It’s not fair. You know that.”

Jeff sighed. “I’ll try to talk to Jim. But I can’t make any promises.”

“Thank you,” breathed Jared. 

“Why don’t you two go wait in the drawing room,” said Jeff. Jared nodded and steered Jensen out of the office.

Jensen slumped down on the antique couch instead of sitting at the piano. “This sucks.”

“I know.” Jared sat down beside him. “I was only trying to help. The garden was dead. I just wanted to bring it back. It seemed like such a waste to let it stay locked away forever.”

“It used to be so pretty,” murmured Jensen. He stared off into the distance. “All the flowers, and the cherry trees, and the fountain. I loved it. We all did. We spent so much time playing in there. My little sister used to jump rope, and my brother and I used to throw Frisbee, and football, and sometimes we’d set up a Slip ’N Slide when it was really hot. I miss it. I miss them.”

“I wanted to fix it for you,” Jared admitted. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted to make it look pretty again. And I’m going to. I don’t care what Jim says. I’m going to finish what I started.”

Jensen twined his fingers with Jared’s. “I would like that.”

Jared pulled Jensen in for a kiss. “I really wanted to surprise you, though.”

“It’s okay. I’ll still love it,” said Jensen. “And I love you for doing it.”

Jared leaned into Jensen and the two of them sat silently, waiting for Jeff to come. Finally, after about five minutes, Jeff appeared. “Well, I have good news and bad news.”

Jared sat up. “I guess I’ll take the good news first.”

“Jim’s willing to reconsider. You are no longer fired, and you don’t have to leave the mansion.”

Jared fought down the urge to shout. He smiled so wide that his cheeks began to sting. “Oh my God, Jeff, you’re a lifesaver.”

“There’s still some bad news,” Jeff went on. “You’re suspended for a week without pay. And you are to stay out of the garden from now on. If he catches you in there again, you _will_ be fired. Do you understand?”

Jared nodded. He’d just have to be really careful not to get caught this time. “Thank you so much. I really, really appreciate this.” He squeezed Jensen’s hand. “We both do.”

“You’re welcome,” said Jeff. “Stay out of trouble.”

“We will,” promised Jared. Jeff smiled at them and left the room.

Just then, Jared’s phone rang. Jared had almost forgotten that he’d left it in the pocket of his overalls. He didn’t really use it much, other than to check his email and a few websites in the evenings. He looked at the display. It was his mother. He swallowed hard and answered the call. “Hey, Mom.”

“Jared,” his mother said in a shaking voice. “You need to come home.”

Jared hated hospitals. Probably no one really liked them, except maybe the doctors and nurses. He hated the chemical tang of antiseptic in the air, the buzzing fluorescent lights that turned the drab white walls a sickly shade of yellow, and the constant low hum of machinery. Every few minutes the PA system would issue garbled announcements, or a shrill alarm would sound from a nearby room. As horrible as hospitals were to visit, Jared didn’t even want to imagine what it would be like to have to stay in one for weeks at a time. 

He numbly followed his mother down the maze of identical corridors to the ICU, which was a large suite with glass partitions between the beds instead of curtains. Jared gasped audibly when he saw his father lying there, with a huge tube down his throat and wires crisscrossed all over his body.

“Pneumonia,” his mother said in a shaking voice. “His body’s too weak to fight it off. They say he doesn’t—he doesn’t have much time.”

Jared dropped into the uncomfortable plastic chair next to the bed. He carefully slipped his hand under his father’s, careful not to disturb the IV line taped there, and gently squeezed his father’s fingers. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” whispered his mother. Jared nodded in acknowledgment, never taking his eyes off the skeletal figure in the bed. It barely looked like his father at all. His scalp was bare except for a few tenacious gray strands clinging to it, his cheeks were sunken, and his collarbones jutted out from beneath papery grayish skin. Jared fought back tears as he realized that, for the rest of his life, whenever he thought about his father he would have to remember this horrific image. All of his good memories would be tainted by it. He almost wished he wouldn’t have had to see it at all, which he knew was unforgivably selfish and callous, but that didn’t stop him from feeling it.

“Hey,” he whispered, but he could barely hear himself over the whooshing of the respirator. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hey Dad, it’s me. Jared. I just came to, uh—“ His voice broke. “To say goodbye, I guess.”

He took a deep breath, and choked back the sob that threatened to spill from his tight, aching chest. He breath caught, and he swallowed hard past the lump that had suddenly sprung up in his desert-dry throat. 

“Look, I just…” Jared scrubbed away the tears streaming down his cheeks with the heel of his hand. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. How can I—there’s so much, I don’t know where to start. I can’t…” He shook his head and tried to force his unruly thoughts into some sort of order. 

He sniffled and swallowed down another sob. His voice trembled. “I just wanna say…don’t think you have to stay here. And take care of us. Mom and Megan and I, we’re gonna be fine. Not right away, but we’ll get there.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he felt so much younger than his nineteen years yet infinitely older at the same time. “So when it’s time to go, you go, okay?”

He felt a tiny bit of pressure against his fingers, that he could have simply imagined, but he chose to believe that it was his father responding to him. The sobs finally won out, and Jared covered his mouth with his other hand to try and muffle the ugly sound. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t _fair_. 

First Jensen, now his father. One was bad enough, but losing both…what had he done to deserve that? What grievous sin had he committed in a past life to deserve this kind of punishment? 

His mother returned and Jared threw himself into her arms. She murmured soft reassurances as he cried bitterly on her shoulder. “It isn’t fair,” he muttered between sobs. 

“I know,” she replied, rubbing circles on his back. “Not to any of us. But it is what it is.”

Jared pulled back and accepted the tissue his mother offered. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she told him, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s okay to feel bad. I’d be worried if you didn’t.”

He swiped at his eyes with the tissue. “I’m not acting like an adult.”

“You don’t have to.” She attempted to smile, but only made it halfway. “I give you permission not to.”

Jared shook his head. “But I—I’m the man of the house now, right?”

“Don’t think like that,” she said firmly. “You don’t need to be strong right now. You also have my permission to feel however you feel and say whatever you need to say.”

“Well, I say this sucks.” Jared crumpled up the tissue and tossed it into the trash can. 

His mother patted his shoulder. “I completely agree.”

“Do they know—“ Jared swallowed hard. “About how long?”

She shook her head. “They’re going to try a different antibiotic. If that doesn’t work, then it may only be a matter of days.” 

Jared nodded. He stared down at his father and wondered if it might be more merciful for all of them if it didn’t. 

“How do you know…” Jared took a deep breath. “If he wants all this?”   
“He does,” she answered, her voice surprisingly strong. “He wants them to do everything they can.”

Jared stiffened. “But he—he needs to know that we’ll be okay. Without him. ‘Cause we will.” He looked his mother straight in the eye. “We will be.”

She nodded. “You’re right. We will be.” She looked down at the bed. “He does. He knows.” She opened her arms and Jared accepted the hug without taking his eyes off the withered husk in the bed. “We both know that.”

“Okay.” Jared stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay.”

Surprisingly, after two days Jared’s father started to improve. Jared ended up spending most of his suspension in his father’s hospital room, telling him all about the gardens and what he was planning to do to rehabilitate the secret garden for Jensen. On the last day, he drove to the nursery in town and picked out all the flowers he wanted to plant in the secret garden. It cost him more than half the money he saved up for school, but that didn’t bother him. Helping Jensen was the most important thing. He had the rest of his life to finish school, but he only had a limited amount of time with Jensen.

Once his suspension was over, Jared went back to work with little fanfare. He only worked on the secret garden in the afternoons, when he wasn’t on the clock. He didn’t even care about Jim catching him. Jim hadn’t even gone to the trouble of hiding the key in a different place. When Jared went to look for it, he was surprised to find it in the same place as always. He wasn’t sure if that meant Jim trusted him or that Jim was an idiot. Either way, it worked for Jared. He was planning to leave the mansion as soon as the secret garden was finished anyway, in order to spend more time with his father while he still could. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. He was going to appreciate the second chance he’d been given.

It took five whole days of work to finish clearing out and replanting the secret garden. He barely saw or spoke to Jensen at all during that time, which was hard on him, but he knew it would be worth it once Jensen came out to the garden and saw the results of all of Jared’s hard work.  

When Jared finally finished, he locked the garden and stashed the key in his pocket. He went up to his room to take a shower and then went down to the drawing room to see Jensen.

“I missed you,” said Jensen as Jared sat down on the piano bench next to him.

“I missed you, too,” replied Jared. “I missed this.”

Jensen smiled softly and began to play something Jared didn’t recognize until Jensen began to sing. Apparently he’d since learned a piano arrangement of “Running to Stand Still,” the song he’d played for Jared on his guitar. It seemed like a million years ago, even though it had only been a couple of weeks. Jared missed those days, before he had learned Jensen’s secret. Things had seemed so much simpler then.

"I see seven towers, but I only see one way out…you’ve gotta cry without weeping, talk without speaking, scream without raising your voice…” Jensen’s voice rose on the last line and then lowered as he continued the verse. Jared knew that for the rest of his life, he’d think of Jensen whenever he heard that song. 

Jared clapped softly for Jensen when he finished playing and Jensen’s cheeks colored. “You liked it?” 

“I loved it.” Jared leaned in and kissed Jensen’s temple. “Would you play your mother’s song?”

Jensen nodded. His fingers danced swiftly over the keys as he played the opening lick. He kept stealing little glances at Jared, and every time he did Jared would smile warmly at him. God, he was going to miss Jensen so much. Even though he knew letting go of him was the right thing to do, that didn’t mean it was going to be easy. 

It would be so selfish to keep Jensen here with him when Jensen wasn’t meant to be here, and Jared almost wished that he was a different kind of person so he could make that selfish choice and still live with himself. But in the end, it wouldn’t be fair to either of them. 

Jared was so lost in thought he didn’t even hear Jensen end the song. Jensen’s face fell when Jared didn’t react, and finally Jared’s brain caught up to his ears and he realized that Jensen had finished playing. Jared wrapped an arm around Jensen’s shoulders. “That was beautiful,” he murmured before he pressed his lips to Jensen’s. 

Jensen stood up and held a hand out to Jared. “Come to my room?” 

“I’d love to.” Jared allowed himself to be led down the hallway. 

Jensen sat down on the edge of his bed and turned to Jared with a serious gaze. “I thought about what you said.”

"What did I say?”

“About me…being dead.” Jensen picked at a loose thread on the bedspread. “And I talked to Jeff.”

“How did that go?”

Jensen’s breath hitched. “You were right,” he choked out, and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “Jeff told me everything. About how—about what happened.”

Jared laced his fingers with Jensen’s. He pressed himself against Jensen’s side. Jensen crumpled into him and started to cry. All Jared could do was wrap his arms around him and hold him tight. 

“I’m sorry,” Jared murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s—not—fair,” Jensen gasped between sobs.

“I know it isn’t.” Jared rubbed circles on Jensen’s back. 

Jensen trembled in Jared’s arms as he fought to control himself. “I’m not supposed to be here,” said Jensen. “But I want to stay. With you. I don’t wanna go to Heaven if you won’t be there.”

Jared took a deep breath. “I wish I didn’t want you to stay. I wish you could. I love you. I’m gonna miss you so much, you don’t even know. But you can’t stay here, Jensen. It’s time to go.”

“I’m scared,” whispered Jensen.

“It’s okay to be scared,” replied Jared. “But it’s gonna be okay. And, you know, I’m gonna get there too, someday. And then we can be together forever.” His voice broke on the last word.

Jensen sniffled. “You promise?” 

Jared pressed his lips to Jensen’s forehead. “I promise.”  
   
They sat in silence for a long moment. “I wanna see it.”

“What? The garden?”

“Yeah,” said Jensen. “I want to see it. Before I go.”

Jared stood up. “Come on, then.”

Jared led Jensen to the back door, but once they got there, Jensen froze. “I haven’t been outside since—since—“

“I know.” Jared squeezed Jensen’s hand. “But nothing can hurt you now, I promise. It’ll be okay.”

Jensen took a deep, shaky breath. He closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest. When he looked up again, Jared could see the determination all over his face. “Okay,” he breathed, and stepped over the threshold. His hand shook in Jared’s, but Jared held on tight.

Jared led Jensen across the grounds to the garden wall. He produced the key from his pocket and unlocked the door, then he pressed Jensen’s hand to the knob. Jensen slowly turned the knob and pushed open the door.

The garden was ablaze with color. Jared had removed the dead climbing roses from the arbor and replaced them with a different variety, one that kept perpetual blooms. Though the two shrubs were quite short at the moment, they would overgrow the entire arbor in two or three years. Around the fountain, which he had cleaned and gotten running again, he’d placed coleus, an annual that produced broad, bright red and purple leaves. He’d filled the bed with Mexican sunflowers, purple coneflowers, and black-eyed Susans. Beneath the cherry trees he’d placed pink and white begonias. He’d removed all the clover and dandelions from the grass and mowed it to a uniform length. 

Jensen turned completely around, taking in all the sights. “This looks amazing,” he breathed, taking a step forward. He examined the rosebushes, then the fountain, and finally the flowerbed. He tugged on Jared’s hand until Jared followed him to the swing. They both sat down on it and Jensen pulled Jared in for a kiss. “Thank you so much. This must have taken forever.”

Jared smiled softly. “It was my pleasure,” he replied. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it!” Jensen jumped off the swing and stood in the middle of the garden, eyes still wide as he took in the scene. “It looks even better than it used to.”

Jared walked over to Jensen and stood behind him, placing his hands on Jensen’s shoulders. “I want you to remember this. Remember the way it looks right now. It’s perfect.”

Jensen turned to face Jared. “This is it, isn’t it?”

Jared blinked back tears. “Yeah, it is. It’s time to go.”

As Jared spoke, a bright, golden shimmer caught the corner of his eye. Jared turned to look at it, and the light seemed to form an archway. Jared guided Jensen over to it. “I love you,” he whispered, as the light became brighter and brighter, almost blindingly so.

“I love you, too,” Jensen whispered back. He pressed his lips to Jared’s in a soft, tentative kiss. Jared deepened the kiss, trying to imprint every bit of the sensation into his memory. Tears dripped down his cheeks, mingling with Jensen’s own. 

Jared stepped back and grasped Jensen’s hand one last time. “Goodbye, Jensen,” he murmured. “I’ll see you later.”

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut and tears streamed from beneath his eyelids. “Goodbye, Jared.”

Jared could barely bring himself to watch Jensen step into the golden archway. The light expanded until it filled the entire garden and flared up like a supernova, forcing Jared to close his eyes. When he opened them, it had disappeared as though it had never even been there. 

Jared scrubbed a hand over his tear-streaked face and opened the door to the garden. He stepped through it for the last time and locked the door. Then he threw the key as hard as he could over the wall. 

The garden was Jared and Jensen’s secret, and it was going to stay that way.


End file.
